


Not a Broom Person

by aykayem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco loves flying. Theo hates it. The main problem here is that Theo can't say no to Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Broom Person

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greatdisorder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatdisorder/gifts).



"Come _on_ ," Draco prompted, having the patience of a child on sugar as he turned around, proceeding to walk backwards through the hallways, giving Theo an exasperated stare. Broom in hand, Quidditch uniform firmly in place, Draco looked every bit the prized Slytherin Seeker that he was, and everyone steered clear of him even without him looking where he was going. Theo, on the other hand, looked like someone plucked right out of their comfort zone and thrown into the most awkward situation they could possibly fathom. Which wasn't exactly so far from the truth either.

"I'm right behind you, mate."

"I don't trust you not to run off."

The look on Theo's face suggested that he'd have loved to do just that, given half an opportunity. Draco merely rolled his eyes with a certain melodramatic flair that only he could get away with in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Nearly taking out a passing second-year at the same time. Theo smirked, hurrying to catch up with his friend before the blond got so exasperated he passed out. Though that wouldn't have been such a bad thing, given that then the little excursion would have been put on hold until the next opportunity they were given to nick the Quidditch pitch for reasons that weren't at all relevant to the game.

It had been Draco's idea - when wasn't it? - to head out that morning. Everyone else was heading off to Hogsmeade, and though Pansy had seemed more than a little eager for some time off with her boyfriend, aforementioned boyfriend had blown her off. Very kind of him, Theo thought - it was sort of a wonder they were still together, considering how often Draco blew her off for a variety of reasons. None of them very good, either.

Not that Theo was about to complain about the company.

They both kept relatively quiet the rest of the way to the pitch - for Theo, that translated to legitimately being quiet; for Draco, that translated to yammering on about nothing at all, fluttering his hands as he gesticulated about some move he was practicing for the next game against so-and-so. Considering most of Draco's monologues didn't need much acknowledgement beyond the odd 'mmhm' or 'yep, you've got that right', it left quite a bit of room to watch the rest of the school pass them by, the younger students mingling amongst themselves, and everything else surprisingly quiet. Pleasantly so. It was a decent spring day at Hogwarts, nothing more than a couple feet of parchment in essays required of anyone, and not even that was getting in the way of a good jaunt around with friends. Even Pansy had had a hard time arguing with Draco when he said he wanted to go flying instead - even Theo had to admit that it was a perfect day for it.

\---

There was something altogether quite impressive about the Quidditch pitch on a bright spring day like that. Everything seemed to glint and glimmer, the green of the grass that much brighter against the bright blue of the sky. And Draco fit in nicely, grinning brightly like a child on Christmas just gifted with the best, fastest racing broom around, though that wasn't quite so far from the truth. Not judging by the look of the neatly trimmed, top of the line broom he had in his hands.

Theo had been there when he was given it, a gift from both his parents the Christmas before, joining them while his own father was away with some kind of business; it wasn't that unheard of for the Malfoys to take people along on their holidays and the like, but it was still slightly strange to see the lot of them in such a familial setting, no matter how many times he'd seen it before. It was probably the fact that it'd been Christmas, of all days, that did it.

His thoughts digressed. Never mind that it took Draco staring at him quite expectantly to make him pay attention again.

"Sorry?" Theo asked, looking a bit awkward as he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. Draco just huffed another sigh, rolling his eyes so hard it seemed as though he might pull something.

"I told you to get a broom, mate."

"Not going to happen," Theo scoffed, immediately straightening up in his own defence. "You couldn't pay me to get on one of those things, Draco, and you know it."

"You got on one in first year," Draco pointed out, propping one hand up on his hip, the other remaining on his broomstick.

Needless to say, Theo didn't bother reminding him that it was mandatory in first year, and he'd fallen off almost immediately. He was very well-acquainted with the ground, and that was a relationship he thought he might like to strengthen. Not to say that he didn't appreciate flying and all that went with it, but he simply didn't want to get to know the sky in that way. Not now, not ever.

Though it was bloody hard to keep that up when Draco was staring at him with what was almost leaning into the realm of puppy dog eyes.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" Draco asked innocently, the expression not fading in the slightest. Almost as though he wasn't even aware of it. But that wasn't possible, because everything Draco did was purposeful, and that meant he was just fucking with Theo's head in an attempt to get him up on a broomstick for the first time in years.

"I'm not doing it."

"I'm sure you won't," Draco replied with a cheerful little smile that simply made Theo narrow his eyes.

"Seriously."

"Mmhm."

With that, Draco turned away from him, and Theo wondered why he hadn't brought a book with him, if for no other reason than that he wanted to pitch it at his friend right that moment. Preferably at his head.

He sighed heavily, unsure how he got himself into that situation to begin with. Then he realised it was because he had the horrid judgement to change his mind at some point, and give Draco Malfoy a shot. Perhaps one of his less brilliant ideas.

But finally, Theo stalked over to the rack, carefully looking over each of the broomsticks while mentally reviewing the many things Draco told him once upon a time to look for. Length, sturdiness, length of the bristles, and all that. He hated himself for a moment for remembering all of that, then remembered that one fateful evening in second year when he'd taken out _Quidditch Through the Ages_ in a subtle attempt to understand what it was Draco was constantly going on about.

Merlin, that was the beginning of the end, and he was just realising it now. What he wouldn't give for a Time-Turner.

"None of them are right," Theo finally announced, turning his back to the brooms and taking a moment to appreciate the way Draco was when he was flying. Like he wasn't truly himself on the ground, and only opened up once he was in the air like this. He hesitated to even think it for fear of it somehow getting back to his friend, but it was a bit of a treat to watch, especially when he wasn't concerned with winning a game. When he could just exist up in the air, spinning loops and feinting and pulling all manner of tricks just to show off.

It was then that Theo realised he was gawking, and not at all in the subtle way he preferred to. No, Draco had definitely noticed this time around, and had pulled up a few metres off the ground, casually brushing his hair out of his face and making a point of looking as casual as he could while not actually hanging onto the broom. (Bloody showoff.)

"Then hop on."

"Excuse me?" Theo asked, trying to sound demanding and put-out instead of acknowledging that his voice came out as more of a squeak.

"We're the same size. Get on," Draco replied, smirking and casually floating lower, almost like a butterfly coming in to land. Still without hands. Someone was going to have to have a conversation with him about basic broom safety, because Theo was fairly certain that had been covered in chapter one of the book - keep your damn hands on the broom.

"Why?"

"Because. I'm getting you up here if it kills me." And there was that typical Malfoy smirk. The one that claimed to know everything, and had somehow managed to charm many a tittering schoolgirl into doing things they wouldn't normally even consider. The one that made Draco a terrible person, and a worse friend. Though Theo supposed it was perhaps his own fault for falling for it.

He pursed his mouth unhappily, glancing back over his shoulder and up at the stands to see if there was someone around to watch his dismal fall from grace, then gestured for Draco to come closer so he could haul himself up onto the broom. 'Haul' was indeed the right word to use there; there was nothing else quite as graceless as Theo's ability to scramble onto the thing. Nothing recorded, at least. He'd have known about it, and doubtless used it as a rebuttal if ever told that he was an awkward teenager. Not that he wasn't, but it was the point of the thing.

But finally, with more than a little flailing on his part (and Draco twisting around to actually put him the right way up after a minute or two or aforementioned flailing), he was up and on the thing. Arms pointedly wrapped - not clinging, mind; just wrapped - around Draco's middle, and legs somehow finagled onto a broomstick theoretically only built for one. And all without hyperventilating.

"Told you it wasn't that bad."

"We're a metre off the ground, you prick," Theo hissed in Draco's ear, giving him a good whack to the sternum. The laugh that followed was cut into by the sudden loss of breath, but remained no less amused.

Draco twisted as much as he could partly doubled over, his smirk just as wide as it was before, "I can fix that, if you like. No skin off my teeth. What do you say to a couple more metres? Three? Four?"

"Take it _slow_."

Draco most definitely didn't take it slow.

\---

"You. Are such. A fucking prick," Theo hissed again, breathing coming in shallow little gasps as he stared down at the ground, thinking simultaneously that if he _stopped_ looking at the ground, maybe it wouldn't be quite as bad. He forced himself to look up instead, where Draco was innocently blinking at him with a 'who, me?' expression. "Yes, _you_ ," he added for good measure, letting go of his death grip on his friend's ribs just long enough to thump him again in the sternum, this time much less effectively.

Draco shrugged one shoulder, patting one of Theo's hands lightly, "Don't worry, mate. I'm not going to drop you. And if I do, I'll just catch you."

"I've seen how well you catch the Snitch."

"I hope that wasn't a dig at Slytherin's last loss."

Theo gave Draco a humourless smirk that suggested it was exactly that.

"It's not my fault. Potter cheats."

Draco huffed, rolling his eyes, and leaned forward, driving the broom out of its stable position; they didn't move quickly by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still worrying. Even if one of Draco's hands remained on top of Theo's, sort of a constant reassuring presence - excepting the fact that Theo was fully aware that Draco was trying to steer a broom with only one hand, and that could _not_ be healthy. They were still too high up for anything to be normal.

But then again, as long as he didn't look down, maybe he could try and enjoy it. Just a little bit. Not the flying part - that was never going to happen - but everything else. The way the wind felt in his hair, the way he could feel the tension leaving Draco with every passing moment, the way he could just lean forward a little bit and casually rest his cheek against his friend's shoulder blade. They took each curve gently, never going any higher than the lowest of the three hoops at the end of the pitch, and slowly but surely, Theo started to get used to it.

It wasn't his favourite thing by any stretch of the imagination, but he could deal with it. Maybe. If it was like this, at least.


End file.
